


Fantastic Pirates And Where To Fuck Them

by imoldgreg



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Fantastic Beasts Characters As Pirates Of The Carribbean Characters, Fingering, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, M/M, Mind Break, More Specific Tags Added At The Start Of Each Fic, Multiple Orgasms, Percival Graves Gets Fucked As Hard As He Deserves, This is such trash, Very Dubious Consent, Virgin Percival Graves, Voyeurism, forced feminisation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 13:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imoldgreg/pseuds/imoldgreg
Summary: Writers block is stopping me from finishing my other projects and I watched the first two pirates of the carribbean films so here we areOr: 3 unrelated grindelgraves fics written in various pirates of the carribbean aus





	Fantastic Pirates And Where To Fuck Them

**Author's Note:**

> Tags: Pirates Of The Caribbean - Dead Man’s Chest Au / Gangbang / Gellert Is Davy Jones / Percival Is Playing The Part Of Will Turner / Gambling / Mind Break / Voyeurism / Fingering / Messy / Percival Graves Crying During Sex / Monster Cocks

This should’ve been the end. For most other sailors it would’ve been. But Percival wasn’t a sailor – he was a blacksmith’s hopeless apprentice, who just so happened to be caught up in a messy situation involving pirates – and he had no intention of this being the end.  
The storm was unforgiving; rain hammered down on his aching form like bullets, the howling gale rocking the ship so badly bile rose in his throat.

“Get that whelp to his feet or it’ll be another ten!” a too-close voice hollered over the deafening sea cracking against the starboard bow, and rough claws dug themselves into his arms, hauling him up.

Percival tried not to vomit. The stench of rotting flesh was overpowering. Grindelwald’s crew were barely human, having served their time for far too long under his cruel hand their bodies were twisted, skin pulled apart and new limbs sprouting from unnatural angles.

He prayed he wouldn’t become like them. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had before barnacles started pushing themselves through his pores, fusing themselves to his bones, or how long before gills slit his throat, or his teeth became jagged.

Percival tightened his grip on the thick rope he’d been handed to stop his hands from shaking. No. He wasn’t going to be here long enough for that to happen. His soul wasn’t damned for all eternity to serve under Grindelwald as part of his crew simply because he’d been on the wrong ship at the wrong time. He wouldn’t let it happen.

“Didn’t you hear me, boy? I said tie it up!” one of the crew (who's skull had rotted enough to form a twisted shell around the majority of his face) snarled at him, and shoved him up the stairs hard enough to almost topple him.

His back was in agony – he’d been lashed with a viciously knotted rope for almost thirty seconds, and it had left his skin his bloody tatters.

The chaos of the storm continued without any sign of relenting, whipping up violent waterspouts that were barely avoided and throwing the ship almost on its side, until finally, and rather suddenly, it ceased. 

Black clouds gave way to bright sunlight, and the sea slowly settled. The Flying Dutchman sailed on calmly, finally, and rather unexpectedly free of the vexed weather.

Percival sat in an exhausted heap on the quarterdeck, every muscle convulsing in violent shakes. Sea water had drenched him, and even without the howling wind chilling his bones he was freezing. His hair was plastered to his forehead, he wasn’t sure whether it was with blood or sweat. He was still clutching the end of the rope he’d somehow managed to obediently tie up.

The other monstrous crew members laughed and spat at him, and he clenched his teeth hard enough to break. He’d learnt from his last beating, he wouldn’t try to fight back this time.

But there was another way to earn his freedom.

With Grindelwald locked away in his cabin and a good majority of the crew left without anything to do, they turned to gambling. A game of Deceit was the favorite – each man had a cup with five shaken die underneath, whoever called the highest number without being caught as a liar won. They gambled anything, and with nothing to their names they gambled the only thing they could; number of years serving under Grindelwald.

Percival dragged himself to his feet, cursing his legs for shaking so badly and his stomach for leaping at the sudden upwards movement. Roughly he pushed his hair out of his face, and unsteadily made his way down the algae-slick stairs to where the game was being played.

He knew the rules, he’d watched them all play it. He’d focused on every win, every loss. He knew what a bluff looked like, and he knew what was safe to call and what was not. He couldn’t lose. It simply wasn’t an option.

Three crew members were just finishing up a round when Percival approached, trying to make himself seem as tall as possible by pushing out his chest and straightening his back. It wouldn’t do to show weakness at a time like this.

The men playing were hideous, their eyes black like a shark’s and their rows of teeth twice as sharp, but he glared them down.

“Don’t say you’re here to challenge one of us, runt,” one of them scoffed, the limpets clinging to his face opening and closing as he spoke, his gills swollen with excited arrogance.

The rest of them laughed cruelly, leering at him. Percival was tiny compared to all of them, even despite the years he’d spent in heavy labour at the forge building large amounts of solid muscle – it was nothing compared to what these demons were equipped with.

But he wouldn’t be so easily intimidated. He stuck his chin out and tried to stand as tall as he could, pushing his chest out and clenching his fists. He fixed them all with what he hoped was a frightening glare of pure rage.

“I challenge Grindelwald to a game,” he announced boldly, but faltered almost as soon as the words left his mouth. The entire crew went silent, staring at Percival as if he’d gone mad. They looked from one to another in dismay. Percival felt himself deflate.

Then his blood ran cold as he heard the steady scrape of Grindelwald's wooden leg against the rotting planks of the deck, steadily growing in volume. When the captain flung open the door to his cabin and fixed Percival with his icy mismatched stare, Percival felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Accompanied by the sinister death toll of the scrape of his shoddy prosthetic limb, Grindelwald approached the table surrounded by his crew.

The man was a beast. His face was almost completely obscured by a monstrous writhing beard of tentacles, his right hand transformed into a terrifyingly huge crab claw with a crushing grip, and his captain's coat and hat covered with long dead coral and rotting barnacles.

The only thing human about him were his eyes, and even they seemed as though they had been taken from some kind of devil; one a deep, fathomless black, and the other a cold, piercing blue. Percival had never seen them show anything but rage.

“So young Graves wishes to challenge his captain?” Grindelwald's strong voice cut through Percival’s fear induced daydream like a knife slicing through butter. He could barely think anymore. He felt frozen.

The rest of the crew murmured their agreements that yes, Percival had asked to challenge him. A languid, self satisfied smirk stretched Gellert’s contorted face, and he took a seat at the table.

Percival clenched his fists, sitting down as well. He glared at the creature in front of him. He wasn’t going to fucking back down.

“Yes, I challenge you, and if I win you give me my freedom,” his voice was firmer than he expected, and Grindelwald looked at him suddenly, taken aback by Percival’s response. His eyes flashed dangerously. Percival’s stomach dropped.

“And if you lose, Mister Graves?” Gellert’s voice was like venom.

“If I lose..” Percival took a deep, shaking breath. He steadied his hand on the surface of the table and set his jaw firmly. “If I lose, my soul is yours for all eternity to do as you please with it.”

The crew roared at Percival’s response, crowding round the table like vultures around a carcass. Grindelwald was smirking again. Percival’s thoughts tried to convince him it was due to overconfidence.

“Very well, Percival,” Gellert adjusted himself in his chair and spat on the floor, shaking his cup and dice. “May the best man win.”

Percival shook his cup fiercely, his brow furrowing even further. He internally begged every deity there was when he slammed his cup back down onto the table, lifting it up carefully and checking his numbers, careful not to let anyone else see.

It wasn’t good luck; each of his dice had landed on a different number. He fixed Gellert with a hopefully unreadable glare, but the heterochromatic eyes that meet his were just as inscrutable.

“Four fours,” the captain purred out, one of his tentacles curling around his cup. Percival couldn’t keep his eyes off them.

“Five fours,” he hedged his bets and hoped that Gellert hadn’t been bluffing, which seemed to surprise the man, who paused for a moment before countering.

“Six twos,” came the venomous reply, his voice as slick as oil. It made Percival squirm and he had to drop the man’s gaze.

He checked under his cup again, but the dice all remained the same. Surely Grindelwald was bluffing? But if he wasn’t…

Percival began to feel his stomach twist, his skin prickling with an anxious sheen of cold sweat. The game should’ve ended by now, it should’ve been easy to win. What if he lost? Was he really Grindelwald’s crewman forever?

“Seven..” Percival panicked, “Sixes.”  
The crew growled, and Percival heard chuckles. He felt hot tears beginning to well in his eyes, smearing his vision.

“Seven sixes?” Grindelwald snorted, and Percival began to shake his head as the crew advanced.

“Welcome to the Flying Duchman, Percy,” the captain laughed, knocking Percival’s cup out of his hand as he stood to reveal his bluff, and Percival flinched back violently.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, dear God he was going to be stuck on this forsaken ship for all eternity. This couldn’t be happening, there had to be a way out.

The crew were on him, grabbing him, hauling him to his feet, grasping at his flesh – dear God he was going to become like them, he was doomed, his soul was damned, he-

“Wait,” Grindelwald’s amused voice broke through the loud jeers and gruff cries, and Percival saw the crowd of freaks part as the captain stepped forward.

Gellert’s claw reached out and latched itself around his throat, squeezing just enough for breathing to be difficult, and Percival’s hands automatically came up to hold onto the cold shell. Was Gellert going to kill him?

“I thought it was awfully rude of young Percy here to dare challenge me, didn’t you all?”

The crew cheered in response, all agreeing enthusiastically. Percival felt his panic rise. He tugged at his arms but the creatures held him firmly. There was no way out.

“So really it’s only the right thing to do – as captain of this ship – to punish the lad, isn’t it?” Grindelwald offered to his crew, who all once again voiced their eager approval. “You all remember last time; bind him up and do what you will, I’ll take my seat.”

Percival barely had time to think before his arms were twisted painfully behind his back, and his wrists bound tightly with coarse rope. He struggled violently, shouting and twisting and biting and kicking, but the men were too strong, and their actions only became more brutal as his fight continued.

He found himself pushed up against the bottom of the main mast in the center of the ship, and tied so his chest was pressed firmly against the pole and his back arched uncomfortably, making his rear seem dangerously vulnerable.

“Grindelwald, what the hell are they doing? Untie me, I demand another round!” Percival snarled at the captain stood watching him, who simply laughed at him.

“You aren’t in any position to be demanding anything, my boy,” Gellert smirked like a Cheshire cat, surveying the spectacle with glittering eyes.

He laughed again when Percival jumped at the cold press of steel against his legs as a cutlass was drawn along his trousers and down the middle of his shirt, allowing them to be ripped away in one simple swipe.

The cold sea air hit his damp skin like a slap to the face, and Percival found himself shivering. He wanted his clothes. He felt exposed.

Then hands were on him. Thick, rough hands, slimy from algae and seaweed, gripping his hips. He tried to pull his hips away, sudden panic arising in him as he realised what was going on, but a calloused finger had already entered him, slick with an alarmingly cold oil. It dripped down uncomfortably over his balls and made him shudder, but the finger inside him slid all the way up to the knuckle and past, making him cringe with pain.

“Grindelwald, okay, you’ve made your point, now please untie me and -ah!-“ Percival was cut off suddenly, the man behind him forcing another finger in, pumping them roughly in and out of him. 

Tears sprang to his eyes and he desperately tried to pull his hips away, his poor hole stretching too wide to accommodate the thick digits.

It seemed his struggles worked, as the fingers were removed, and he breathed out heavily. His face was bright red, but he glared daggers at the captain at in front of him, watching Percival intensely.

“You fucking bastar- ah fuck!-“

Something blunt, and what seemed extremely large, breached him, and Percival was barely given a second to adjust before it began to thrust itself inside him, gaining speed at a painfully sudden rate.

It was too much, he was too full and too stretched and it hurt so fucking much. Percival’s cheeks were wet with tears, his wrists aching from the bindings, wet with what he could only assume was blood. His whole body was jolted forward by the man’s powerful thrusts, his grunts of pleasure and vice-like grip on his hips the only indicator this wasn’t some kind of machine pounding into him with no abandon.

But then, very, very slowly, the pain began to turn to an occasional spark of vague ease, which then began to change into a slowly building tingling, which then itself transformed rather suddenly into a constant stream of thick, white hot please. It barely took a few minutes of this sudden, toe-curling pleasure for Percival to start moaning, his eyes losing focus and his legs starting to buckle.

“Enjoying yourself, Percival?” he heard Gellert’s voice somewhere in the distance, but it felt like miles away. All he could think about was the thick cock impaling him from behind, ramming itself deep into his gut, setting his nerves alight with each movement.

How had he never tried this before? The feeling was more intense than anything he’d ever felt before.

He came hard, spurting hot white ribbons onto the mast in front of him, making him cry out with a painfully vulnerable sound. He heard the crew roar triumphantly in response, and he sagged against his bindings, panting heavily.

But the man behind him didn’t stop, and Percival could feel his body jolting almost painfully as the spot inside him was stimulated again and again by his movements. It was too much, it had him drooling, his eyes rolled back and his skin quivering.

He came again with sudden force when the man exploded inside of him, coating his insides with his seed. It made him feel sick, but he had barely any time to contemplate this, as as soon as the first man pulled away, another cock replaced his.

This one had suffered the transformation effects worse than the last one – it was barely recognisable as a human's. It was thinner, but mind breakingly long, and worked more like a spear as the man thrusted quickly inside him, squeezing the breath out of him by the sheer length of it. Percival could’ve sworn it was in the back of his throat.

He moaned like a girl, too overwhelmed with sensation to stop himself, and he felt hot tears running down his cheeks again. The men jeered, and he felt a clawed hand smack his behind hard. It should’ve been painful, but it made Percival cum dry.

When the man came his cock became swollen at the base, locking the two of them together tightly as too-thick cum was unloaded inside him. Percival shuddered, his whole body aching for him to leave. When he finally pulled out it made Percival’s eyes roll back; having something so long slowly slide out of him had felt better than it should’ve done.

Then yet another cock was placed at his hole, this time with a broad flared tip that strained at his hole before it finally gave way and allowed him inside. Percival cried out as the alarmingly thick length entered him, his hands straining at his bindings painfully. If this thing started moving he’d surely be torn apart-

“Gellert please, you’ve made your point – fuck!- “ and Percival could no longer speak. The man behind him fucked him with no mercy, and Percival felt his legs give out, his hips held up only by the man’s hands.

This endless chain of the hideous creatures kept going for longer than Percival could count. By the end he was ruined, his mind blank, his body only responding to the white hot sensations that the men’s cocks could give him. His cheeks were tacky with dried tears and his hole ached, a thick stream of every man’s cum slowly dripping out.

“I think we might've gone to far, captain,” a gruff voice started speaking, and Percival lolled his head to a side to try and find the source of it. His tongue hung out his mouth like a dog’s.

Grindelwald stood over him, and leant down to brush a loose strand of hair out of his eyes with one of his tentacles. It was cold and wet against his face, and Percival whimpered. It was all he could do – his body was useless, positioned upright only by his bindings.

“I think you’ve done brilliantly men,” came the captain's reply, and as he leant down closer to Percival’s face his tentacles wrapped around his throat. Grindelwald’s lips came barely an inch away from his ear.

“Get used to this, you’re here forever.”


End file.
